Arena
by Gunlord500
Summary: A short FE7 fic requested by a friend of mine. Hectorcentric.


AUTHOR'S NOTE: As recommended by Mr. EternalPork, I have enabled anonymous commenting. However, I would ask that anyone who comments anonymously leave some sort of name I can identify them by. I like to thank my reviewers individually, which is hard to do when they're just named "Anon"

Arena

"Hey, uh, teacher? Can I be excused?"

The old man dropped his chalk in surprise as a familiar, booming voice resounded through the small classroom. "Hector!" he said, utterly exasperated. "Class has just started!"

"But I gotta go to the bathroom!"

"You should have gone before class. Now, class, please open your books to page—"

"But I gotta go NOW! I mean, unless you want to clean up a smelly yellow puddle after class…"

At this suggestion, the entire class burst into raucous laughter, with the exception of the red-haired boy sitting next to Hector, who simply hid his face in embarrassment.

"All right, all right!" The old schoolteacher accepted defeat. "There's no need to resort to threats. Just do your business, and be quick about it!"

"Thanks, man!" Hector quickly jumped from his seat and raced out the door, leaving the giggling of his classmates behind him.

"Now," said the teacher, "Let's turn our books to page 53 while we wait for Hector to return from the bathroom."

The last place Hector intended to visit was the chamber pot, however. Slipping quietly outside the schoolhouse, he quickly made his way to the center of town, where the giant, monolithic edifice of the fighting pit awaited him. He smiled as he saw the crowds mulling about the entrance. Brusquely pushing through the teeming bodies, Hector made his way to the heavy, cast-iron portcullis that served as the entrance to the arena. A muscular, battle-scarred man with a ponytail seemed to be waiting for him.

"You finally showed up, eh, kid?" He smiled. "I was getting' worried."

"You're kidding me, right?" Hector laughed. "There's no way in hell I'd miss a fight like this!"

"Yep, I thought so. Here, I've got your favorite ready for you." The scarred man held out a notched, worn iron axe to Hector. The young Ostian lordling smiled as he gripped the weapon in his hands.

"Hey, thanks!"

"Don't mention it. And try not to get yourself killed out there, y'hear?"

Hector nodded, and the man pulled on a long wooden lever embedded in the wall next to him. The iron gate opened, and Hector stepped into the arena, ready to face his opponent.

The lordling gulped nervously as he looked over his foe. This wouldn't be an easy battle. A tall, self-assured swordsman stood proudly before him, smirking as he saw the youth and inexperience of his enemy.

"Shouldn't you be in school, kid?" the fighter chuckled. "You hardly look old enough to be fighting in here."

"Shut up!" Hector spat, but he knew the swordsman's confidence was not entirely unwarranted. Painful experience had taught him that the powerful but ponderous axes he favored had trouble hitting swift opponents armed with light blades. This would not be an easy fight.

The swordsman simply shook his head and smiled. "Don't worry, kid. I'll make this quick." And with that, he rushed at Hector, slashing his blade at the Ostian's head. The young lordling pushed his axe upwards to deflect the blow, locking weapons with his enemy. Even the grizzled swordsman could not match the raw power contained within the Ostian's sinewed, rippling muscles, and another push of Hector's arms sent him stumbling backwards.

The swordsman had not expected such a young boy to possess such strength, and he barely managed to stop himself from toppling over. As he regained his footing, he realized that he would not be able to simply overpower his opponent.

That was alright, though. Power wasn't the only thing that mattered in combat.

"Now it's my turn!" Hector yelled. He charged straight at the swordsman, bringing his axe down in a vicious overhead chop. The swordsman didn't even try to block the attack. Instead, he quickly sidestepped the blow and smirked as Hector's axe bit into empty air.

"Dammit!" Hector swore, and again swung his heavy axe. The swordsman swiftly jumped outside the arc of the slow-moving weapon, and evaded the Ostian's following blows with equal ease. Hector chopped at his foe with all his strength, but he simply couldn't move his bulky, cumbersome axe fast enough to hit its speedy target. "Would you just stay still for a moment?" he grunted in frustration, and the swordsman merely laughed.

"Make me!" he chuckled, and launched a stunning attack routine that sent Hector back on the defensive. His blade twisted and weaved through the air, leaving the lordling not even the smallest opening to mount any sort of counter. The swordsman overwhelmed his opponent with finesse rather than power. There was little strength behind his blows, but they were all aimed at Hector's most vulnerable points, and came faster than Hector could parry them. The Ostian barely blocked a stab to the chest when he ducked to avoid three to the head. He barely deflected a cut to his belly when he repelled a slash that would have tore open his neck. Every time he tried to launch a strike of his own, the swordsman unleashed a flurry of thrusts and slices that forced him to defend. Hector grimaced as his opponent came dangerously close to hitting the mark, nicking his collarbone just below his throat. The swordsman was just too skilled and too swift. Hector realized there was no way for him to regain the offensive—though his raw strength coupled with the power of his axe could easily hew the swordsman in two, his weapon was simply too cumbersome to outpace the swordsman's lighting-fast strikes.

Perhaps that wasn't such a bad thing after all.

Hector gave up even trying to attack his opponent, and concentrated entirely on defense. He planted his feet firmly on the ground and used his axe as a shield, blocking one attack with the blade and another with the handle. He twisted and turned the head of his weapon, deflecting blow after blow. The swordsman interpreted this as weakness, and thought that victory was at hand. He pressed into Hector with heightened fervor, trying to exploit some crack in the axeman's defenses.

Hector didn't budge, and he deftly twirled his axe around himself to foil his enemy's incessant thrusts and pokes. The swordsman grinned, for Hector's flashy maneuver had left him vulnerable. Hector's axe spun in front of his eyes for just a moment, rendering him unable to see the swordsman's actions for a fraction of a second. That was all the cunning fighter needed. He darted under Hector's whirling axe and raised his sword, ready to slice open the lordling's belly.

His plan was foiled, however, by the booted foot that crashed into his chin.

Hector realized his spinning weapon left his lower body vulnerable, and anticipated the swordsman would exploit that opening. Thus, he had leaned back as the spin of his axe repelled the swordsman's initial thrusts, and the heavy weapon's momentum had caused him to topple over backwards, allowing him to catch the charging swordsman off-guard with his foot.

The warrior staggered back, cradling his chin as his eyes watered with pain. Hector realized the swordsman was at his most vulnerable—he would not offer his opponent another such opportunity. Getting up as fast as he could, Hector raced straight for the dazed swordsman, swinging his heavy blade with as much force as he could muster.

It was far more than enough. The flat of Hector's axe struck with the swordsman's head with a resounding crack, and the unfortunate warrior was knocked clear across the arena and straight into unconsciousness.

The crowd went wild as Hector was announced the victor. Striding proudly out of the fighting pit, the young Ostian was greeted by the arena's battle-scarred proprietor, smiling jovially and carrying a large bag of gold.

"That was a damn good fight, lad." The man held out the sack of coins. "You've earned this."

"Aw, man! This is great!" Hector's eyes gleamed hungrily as he snatched the money out of the man's meaty hands. Whistling gleefully to himself, the young lordling couldn't imagine his life getting any better. He had proven himself to be one of the strongest contestants ever to grace Ostia's fighting pits, and the money that accompanied such a claim jingled merrily inside the bag he held in his hands.

Unfortunately, Hector's good cheer soon came to an end as he saw the stony-faced redhead who blocked the road ahead of him.

"Eliwood!" he exclaimed, visibly shocked. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

"Our teacher sent me to track you down." Eliwood said. "I'm sorry to say that the arena doesn't really look like the bathroom, now does it?"

"Oh, crap…" Hector gulped. "Look, uh, you're not gonna tell anybody about this, are you?"

"Perhaps," Eliwood smiled wryly. "Perhaps not. I think what you have in that bag might be enough to keep my mouth shut."

"WHAT? You're kidding me! Listen, buddy," Hector growled, "I earned this money fair and square!"

"Alright, if you say so. I just don't think Uther will be very happy to find his little brother fighting in the arena instead of finishing his schoolwork…"

"okay, okay!" Hector conceded defeat. "Just keep your voice down! We'll split it fifty-fifty. Just don't tell my brother, alright?"

Eliwood grinned and shook Hector's hand. "We've got a deal."

"Hmph," Hector grunted sullenly. "It's fair, anyways. I might not have won that match if it wasn't for you."

Eliwood blinked. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"Well, do you remember the last sparring match we had? You know, last month?"

The Pherean laughed. "Of course I do! I won quite a victory that day, as I recall."

Hector scowled. "Don't rub it in! Anyways, I learned quite a lot from that defeat…"

"How so?"

"Well, remember how I spun my axe around to try and block your rapier's poking?"

"Uh-huh. I just ducked under it and jabbed you straight in the stomach. You went down like a sack of potatoes!"

"Yeah, well, my opponent in the ring tried to do the same thing today. But after fighting with you, I knew exactly what he was planning. So when he ducked under my axe, I kicked him square in the chin! I'm pretty glad you showed me that move, Eliwood. If I hadn't seen it before, I'd be a dead man right now."

"Wow…" Eliwood patted Hector on the shoulder. "That must have been one intense fight. Looks like our matches have really done some good. I'm glad you're still alive, Hector. And seriously…try and keep it that way, would you?"

Hector smiled. "Don't worry about it, buddy. I won't go down so easily or so soon. That reminds me…I got something important to tell you."

"Huh? What is it?"

"Well, seeing how I've figured out how to defeat that little sword maneuver of yours, I think last month's fight calls for a rematch. So if you ever want to see any of my money, you're gonna have to beat me again!" And with that, Hector off down the road, laughing heartily to himself.

"Hector," Eliwood yelled, "Get back here!" He quickly dashed after his friend, determined to teach the delinquent a lesson.

As the two boys chased each other through the deepening twilight, neither one imagined that their future held anything other than this sort of lighthearted mischief. And neither of them, not even Hector, thought that a pugnacious ruffian more at home in the fighting pit than at court would later mature into one of the greatest lords Ostia had ever known.


End file.
